The Tale of the Wo Dao
by Black Lotus Flower
Summary: The Wo Dao was an heirloom meant for only the strongest of warriors but was it worth the sacrifices he had to make to obtain it? A story about Karel's childhood and how he obtained the sword. Based off of his support with Karla.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own no part of Fire Emblem.

This is all Karel reflecting on his past. I will make a point to state what age he is at near the beginning of the chapter. Somewhat of a spoiler if you haven't read his support conversations with Karla. (Sort of) In this chapter he still a small child, around the age of seven.

"Father? What is this?" I held the Wo Dao in my hands. It was a light sword but it laid so heavily in my soft, fragile, little hands. The edge of the hilt cut into my skin. I hated it. I hated the feeling it gave me. Still…it was addicting. I wanted to drop it to the floor and pull it closer all at the same time. But I wasn't given the chance to do either. He lifted it from my grasp, mounting it back on the wall.

"This is the Wo Dao. A family heirloom, past down from the greatest warrior to his heir. One of you will inherit it. Whoever is most deserving."

"Most deserving?" My eyes shifted back to the blade. "Am I deserving?"

A certain lust reverberated in his eyes so strong that it entranced me. I could never have understood then what it meant to be deserving. "I expect great things from you, Karel. You of all your siblings. I believe you will go the furthest."

"I will inherit it!?" I was an idiot child. I was concerned more with the competitive nature spawned by sibling rivalry than I was the actual prize. Even then I refused to lose. I would not be inferior.

"Perhaps. If you work hard enough. Reach your full potential, and none of them will be able to match you. Not any of your brothers."

"But they're so much older…" In those days I was narrow sighted enough to believe that age actually mattered.

"So what of it? The blade knows nothing but blood, which runs pure red from whatever it leaks from, and death fears no age, size, or gender. Do you want to be a warrior, Karel?"

"Yes! I will be the best! Better than all of them!"

"Then we will begin your training tomorrow. Get some rest. I don't want you lagging behind."

"All right! Good-night father!"

I still remember that grin on his face. One not of affection, but greed in its simplest form. "Good-night, Karel." I would know nothing of good tidings after what I would experience the next day.

* * *

"Brother? Where are you going so early?" Karla grabbed my wrist. She was the smallest of all of us and at that time only five years of age. I must had woken her up as I began to leave the room. Her hair came to her shoulders, with it being snarled from sleeping. When she came and stood beside me, she reached only my shoulders though we were not that far apart in age. Back in those days…we were inseparable.

"Father is going to begin training me! He said I could inherit the sword!"

I remember her tilting her head with little understanding. "A sword? Why would you want something like that?"

"Because…" That was the truth of it. I had no real reason. Nothing other than… "I want to be better than our older brothers."

"After father took Adam training… he changed. I don't think you should go. Swords are used to kill people anyway. Why would we need anything like that?"

"I'm not going to hurt anyone! Besides, Adam is probably just…getting older. People do eventually change!"

"Please…be careful." She said nothing else as she crawled back into bed, turning away from me.


	2. Blood And Butterflies

Thanks to all of you who took the time to read the story thus far. Thanks even more so to those who review. He isn't any older this chapter. It's the first time he's being trained by his father. Later on, I may skip some years, pending on what ideas I come up with. Enjoy!

"Father? What are we going to do out here? Don't I need a sword, too?"

"No. For now you just observe." He unsheathed the prize of promise. The well polished blade shone extravagantly when tilted towards the sunlight. It had a somewhat frightening beauty. To some that would be strange. But it is only because they haven't experienced how beautiful the look of horror on a victim's face is. Even at that age, I mildly understood it.

"What is it that I'm watching?" I looked curiously at the series of tents that sat at the bottom of the hill we stood atop.

"You will watch the art in its glory. Are you ready to watch someone die?" He looked at me expectantly. I was an ignorant little child then. I believed that nothing should be harmed. All life was sacred. That was my mother's philosophy. But she had died a year before then. A madman ran through the town killing whoever was in his path. Eventually a couple of men caught him. When they asked him why he had killed so many people, with no real incentive at all, he answered, "The color of blood shines wondrously in the sun." They declared him crazy. They couldn't understand. My father was the one who executed him. As such young children, Karla and I were not permitted to watch, but all our brothers had gotten the opportunity. They all returned with sick grins on their face. The man's head rolling across the street had brought them relief. It was hypocritical. They couldn't see that they were just as bad. They possessed the same lust. Perhaps everyone does.

I was still little. I hadn't the experiences yet to logic such things. I responded with what was most taught to me. "Die? But…but mother said…"

"And your mother is dead. These men are bandits. They've been robbing villages of everything those poor people had. That is one thing you must learn. Some deserve to live. Others deserve to die. Do you believe that those who would steal blindly from the poor deserve such a precious gift as life?"

My response was utter silence. At the age of seven, how was I suppose to answer? Children of so few years are yet to even contemplate such matters. They simply reiterate what it was that they were told. I was confused. Both parents had told me complete opposite theories. I was unsure what I was suppose to repeat.

"You must decide now. Do you believe they should die?…or are you a bleeding heart? Are you strong enough to take from those who take from others?"

He expected an answer. I could respond with nothing more than a nod.

"Stay up here. Nothing good will come if you get involved. You, at this point, would only get in the way and then be injured. Be a good spectator."

I again nodded. My entire body shook from the idea of watching blood stain the field below. Blood. I cried the first time I saw it. It oozed from my knee after I had fell on some rocks. Blood. I polished its harden remains off of my father's swords many times before. Blood. I saw what a body looked like when there was none left inside of it before we buried my mother. Then a butterfly. It flew in front of my face and seemed to dance in the wind. It traveled aimlessly as insects do, its yellow and black wings beating fiercely towards what would soon become a battlefield. Something so innocent didn't belong in the presence of death. Its small body would be crushed against the pressure of battle. I remember those thoughts, though they were less eloquently stated. I pressed my hand against my face. Tears had began to fall without my permission. My weak, little knees gave out and I fell into a sitting position. Blood. Soon it would covet the area, covering everything in a crimson, devilish red.

I watched as the men came out of their tents to meet my father. He had slain the first man before the bandit could even draw his blade. The others did not wait to learn more. Another two charged towards him from two different directions. He be-headed the one to his right with one swift motion of his arm, then ducked down immediately after to avoid being hit by the second. Before his rival could recover, my father had shoved his blade cleanly through the bandit's stomach. He pulled it upwards and his opponent fell to the ground, nearly torn in half. The blood had splattered over his white shirt in such large quantities that I could see it from the distance I was at. A fourth and final man came forward. He looked to me like an elder, hunched over and decrepit. Still he charged. Like the others my father showed him no mercy. He stabbed the old man through the chest and he fell over with one hit. I could see him rolling on the ground for a few minutes before the last bit of his life finally faded away. I wasn't even in the battle but I felt myself choking underneath the intensity. I hated it. But from that point on, I craved it. There was no other feeling like it in the world.

My father wandered the field, searching for more men. After he determined that there was none left lying in wait, he motioned me forward with a hand gesture. My body wouldn't allow me to move when I first attempted. I began to sit up but fell back down promptly. It was my third try when I was finally able to bring myself to my feet. I went to him with all the speed I could muster. He was covered in blood, none of it being his. He had the same sick grin on his face as he did the day he executed the man who murdered my mother.

I felt something warm and wet seep through my shoe. I looked down at my feet. There was the corpse of the man my father had almost ripped into two separate pieces. His face was still intact. His mouth was gaped in a screaming position, his eyes still wide and open. His countenance was forever left frozen in his terrified pose as he rotted into the earth. I screamed when I realized what was in my shoe. It was blood.

My father laughed at me. "You will have to get used to that. Battle fields are not the driest of all places, I'm afraid."

"But it's…"

"Consider it the corpse's way of letting you know that it truly is dead. If it looks like that, then you know that the person will not be getting back up."

"His eyes…" My gaze met that of the deceased man.

"What about them? The crows will be at them before long." He pushed a hand against my back. "Come. It's time for us to collect what they had of any value. That is the spoils of victory."

"Shouldn't we return it to the people who had it taken from them?"

"It is their payment to us for getting rid of the bandits."

They weren't bandits. It was what my father had told me so that I would believe it was justified. In truth, they were only simple nomads. I didn't realize that until I was older. It was so obvious then. They possessed too little to be bandits. That was why they had come out to greet us. It wasn't that they had something to protect. It was because they had nothing to hide. They were travelers and nothing more. Still, he killed them, for nothing more than avarice and to see the blood that could spew only from something once living. Mostly, it was for the blood…


	3. LOVE

**He's eight now. Sure, It's not a dramatic increase in age but he was trained for a year. Please review. (I don't know why I post that request every chapter. It doesn't sway anyone.) I send thank you messages! Great thanks to those who did review, though. : ) **

"Karel. I want you to spar against your brother today." My father came up behind me. I was practicing the motions he had taught me with a wooden sword. I was nowhere near ready to spar with anyone. It was obvious. But he insisted anyway.

"Huh?" I turned around, surprised that he wished for such a thing. "Neil, Adam, Collin, or Conner?"

"Adam. He is the closest to your age." I was relieved to hear that it was not Conner. Conner was the second eldest but not much of a warrior. He was a pacifist with too peaceful of a mindset to ever become anything greater. Because of that, he was the weakest at age 14, only stronger than me. Still, I did not want to face him. I cared for Adam almost as much as I did Karla. He was the only adult figure who looked back down at me with affection. No matter what he was put through for his "weakness", those big green, eyes still danced and grinned whenever his gaze sat upon me. I couldn't have hurt him then but there was still no part of me that even wanted to try.

Adam was not an opponent I would have hoped for even at that. Though he was the closest to my age, he could still easily beat any of my other brothers. He was the perfect example of what my father wanted us to become. He was cold, emotionless, and had no concern for consequences. Likewise, he had no concern for hurting us. His dark, heavy stare gave me a chill whenever by chance he looked at me. "Do you really think that I'm ready to fight someone like him? He's so much bigger…"

"Size is not everything and victory is not the only experience that will grant you knowledge. You must learn to engage an opponent. The only way you will learn that is by facing one."

"…Am I ready?"

"Soon it won't matter if you are or not. Training consists of pushing yourself past your original boundaries. You will either be stronger or die as the weak deserve to do. It all comes down to you." Adam walked up to my father's side, his piercing brown eyes looking even more devious with his brown hair untamed at his shoulders. The chill. It seeped through me yet again. It was a foolish sentiment that I could possibly defend myself against a boy when I could barely move while in his presence, not alone be victorious. Everything about him…nothing was human.

"Am I to show him mercy?" He spoke with the same monotone indifference that he used to ask about morning chores. He had no concerns.

"The decision is yours. Do what you feel is necessary. I need to go into town. This should prove if either of you will ever be worthy of the title warrior." He walked away and never looked back. It wasn't even worth it to him to proctor the match.

Adam glared at me from the corner of his eye, wooden sword dangling loosely in his right hand. Only one thought continued to cross through my mind. I believed that day my life would end. My father had given him permission to kill me. We were all raised early to look at one another as nothing but competitors that would have to be murdered one day to ultimately obtain our goal. Adam took it to heart more than any of us. It was his chance. He could kill me before I ever had the chance to pose a threat.

He came at me without warning. As a natural instinct I stuck the sword up to use as a shield for my face. I was amazed that such a sloppy maneuver blocked his blow. It was not so for long. He quickly pulled away, shoving his sword in between mine and my body, pulling. His strength was greater than mine and I dropped my only means to defend myself. It was obvious from then on. He chose to show no mercy.

It seemed like hours I laid there being beaten with a wooden stick. He was relentless in his assault. He intended to kill me, there was no doubt about that. His expression never wavered. He displayed almost complete indifference, save the upward tilt to the corners of his mouth that almost resembled a grin. Then he stopped. His arm fell back to his side as he fell down on top of me. I felt strong, sturdy arms pull me up and set me gently on the ground. Conner.

He knelt down next to me, wiping the blood and tears from my face. He had actually knocked Adam unconscious for my sake. Such an act was uncommon of his nature. Despite what I made him do he smiled at me with kindness in his face. "I don't think that was really necessary of him, now was it? He forgot what it was like for him the first time he sparred."

Karla edged away from his side. Tears fell down her naturally rosy cheeks as she dabbed at my face with a handkerchief. The contact hurt and burned the surface of my skin but the affection that forced her to do it made it not matter at all.

"We should get you back home. A spare change of clothes would do you some good."

"I told you nothing good came of fighting!" Karla dropped her cloth on the ground with a defeated look on her face.

My back hurt but I forced myself to bend over as I did so many times when we played. Her hand came up to her mouth as she looked at me slightly confused.

"Karel, let me carry her this time."

"I always carry her." I forced a grin. "Its not like she's heavy."

"You're back is warm..." She seemed to calm down as I lifted her onto my back and we began walking. Adam grew colder but stronger by the day but the three of us shared something that he had long forgotten the feeling of. It was…

**That's the end of another chapter. Please review!**


	4. Requiem

**I thank all my reviewers. Your comments are motivation to keep updating. The more reviews, the more updates. With that, the next chapter. (He's 13 now. Yeah, a bit of a drastic age increase.)**

I wasn't suppose to follow but the temptation was too great. It was Conner who told me not to come. I received no instruction to, therefore I was not needed; but he had other reasons. That was what drove me. What could they possibly be doing? What was there that I was yet to see that he felt would be too much for me? I didn't believe that there could be much left.

It was early in the morning. The sun had barely begun to come up. Conner had told me the night before that I was not to join them the next day. I remember the conversation as clearly as I could remember anything. He sat with me in the room I shared with Karla, anxiety clearly staining his face. He was 19 and no longer lived with us but somehow our father still had control over him. It was weakness on Conner's part. He never had the strength to break away. He sat next to me as I tried to pull the answers out of him of the questions that I asked about that days mission. He refused to give me any real details. Perhaps not refused as much as couldn't. He repeated the same things over and over to me in a quivery tone. "I couldn't let them do it…" "It was so pointless…." And then his most spoke phrase. "No matter what, you and Karla must not follow us tomorrow…" The request for Karla not to come was of no surprise to me. She had become accustomed to following me when she was allowed but some things weren't fitting for a woman to see. Him saying I should stay behind… I had become one of the strongest, bested only by Adam. For what reason should I stay behind?

I snuck quietly only a small distance behind them. I stayed crouched beneath the brush, careful not to be seen. Karla had stayed behind as per my request. I was unsure what it was I would see. There was no reason to chance her innocence.

I followed them to a secluded area, at least an hours walk from where we lived. It was a forest. I watched intently as they finally came to a stop. It was after that point that I didn't understand. Conner stood still and silently, the look of dread reflecting in his eyes even more as Neil and Collin restrained him. He gave no struggle as they held both his arms behind his back.

My father and Adam stood in front of him. My father void of expression as he always was and Adam with those demonically cold eyes. They were the only two who carried swords at their side. Neil and Collin looked impatiently back at them. Conner just stood there, his head ducked and his large, green eyes with furrowed brows staring expectantly at the two armed men before him. My arms tensed as my father began to speak.

"You know why this is, Conner. Your sympathy is becoming too much of a hindrance. I overlooked it when you kept it to yourself but lashing out against us is unacceptable. I will not allow you to interrupt us."

"All those people were innocent. Yesterday was the only time I actually did something worth recognition. If I die for it, so what? I did what was right, something that you will never get to say. If you kill me now, then I'll see you again in hell. That's the only place people like us belong."

"You're too much like your mother. This world is ruled by the warriors. The weak suffer their losses because they never worked hard enough to become strong. You were never a bad fighter. You had skill and great potential but that bleeding heart of yours never let you reach it. My son…" Adam unsheathed the sword he carried at his side almost as if he were on cue. "This is what happens to the weak."

Adam stepped forward. Conner still stood silent, motionless, his head down like a defeated dog's tail and his eyes no longer showing any emotion. None, not until….he noticed me. Somewhere through the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of me hiding. His entire head turned and his face became fear stricken. He wasn't afraid for his own life… he was afraid for mine.

I stood up, revealing myself and opening my mouth as if to scream, but no sound came out. It didn't matter. I was too late. Adam had already positioned the blade above Conner's neck and brought it down. His expression was forever frozen on his face just as it had been on the face of the man who's blood first ran into my shoe. Adam's lips curled into a grin he wore only after a kill as he placed his sword back in its sheathe and began to walk away. It was nothing to him.

My blood boiled inside of me as they walked by on the path, just leaving his corpse to rot. My heart felt as if it were going to burst out of my chest. I could feel the tears dwelling in my eyes. I cried for the first time in years. It was the last time. I know I made hostile sounds at them as they passed me. I wanted to kill them there but I had brought no weapon. Neil's eye twitched as he walked by me, slight sympathy emanating from him as I cursed his name, but even he didn't look back.

I buried Conner myself. I had to go back and get a shovel. My hands bled from the work but my brother was worthy of so much more, that the least I could give him was a proper burial. I fell on top of his grave screaming like a little child. Then I understood why it was he wanted me to stay behind. He knew he was going to die but he never fought back.

I'll never understand why.

There was a few things his death brought into perspective for me.

Honor was a lie.

Emotions were a thing of pain.

And the most important: the strong must die. To spare the innocent all of those self-declared "strong" must be annihilated. That would be my mission. The normal, or the weak as they were referred to were not meant to be slain by the sword. Those who wished for their life to be engulfed by battle…then let their lives end by it.


	5. Vendetta

**Well, this story is getting closer to the end. I think there may be one more chapter, two at the most left. I would like to thank my two constant reviewer of this story, Sorenfangirl04 and Neville 2.0. I still hope to hear from more of you. Reviews are the main purpose for posting a story. I hope that you will take the few seconds to give a line of comment after I posted the chapter. Thanks for reading. He's 15 in this chapter.**

It was the loneliest I had ever felt. It had been two years since Conner was murdered but his presence still lingered somehow. Karla had left. My father had seen her as not worth anything as a fighter, so she had taken an apprenticeship in another village. She was learning how to sow and knit. I was left behind, left alone to survive in a cold existence and left to brood in an empty room. But perhaps that was what I needed. She was no longer there. Neither was Conner. I was free to do what it was I needed to do with no one to make me feel guilty.

I stayed separate from my father and other brothers. I couldn't tolerate being in their presence. I had never known and never knew since a stronger hate. My father especially. He had managed to cast away everyone that I had ever grown close to, everyone that reminded me I was human. He would fall. My brothers would fall. For a sword? For that I couldn't have cared much less. I would have revenge.

I lie on my bed thinking about it. I could never plan to do such a thing were Karla still there. She would cry. She would tell me how I was no better than they were. She would say that it would be unhealthy for me. But with our distance there was nothing she could say. She would never know.

I thought of the ways that I would kill them and after every one Conner became my conscious. Absent in body he was still yet to be absent in mind. " I could slit their throats in their sleep." "You would kill those who cannot even defend themselves? Your family even?" His voice echoed. "I could bind them and beat them until their life dissipated from their mutilated corpses." "Such cruelty is something that harms the abuser more than the victim…Karel, it isn't you." His voice would answer. Conner had blessed me in life and haunted me in death. It was an irony only he could resume.

There was only one way I could rightly accomplish what it was that had to be done.

An eye for an eye.

Blood for blood.

Limb for limb.

Tears for tears.

Fear for fear.

I would have it all and nothing less.

Adam had to be the first to go. I couldn't sleep properly knowing that I had allowed such a monster to still exist in the world. Who was he that he deserved to live? His cold, unfeeling eyes had indeed at one time sent a chill down my spine whenever we exchanged glances, but now he made my blood boil. He killed Conner. Two years later, I was strong enough to avenge my brother. I knew where he would be.

I walked down the path that lead away from our house, finding that I was correct in my assumption that he was hunched behind some bushes, waiting for some unsuspecting innocent to walk by. It was a thing he did a lot; the person would walk by and then Adam would jump he or she, kill them, and steal whatever they had on them of worth. Just like my father. A pirate.

"Adam." I said his name sharply, only to get his attention. He said nothing in response. Only glared and turned back around. I had given him warning. What he chose to do with it was his decision.

I jumped on top of him, binding his arms and ankles with a rope that I had carried at my side. He made an aggravated grunting noise at me as he tried to resist but I was stronger. He was good at making swift motions with a sword but nothing else. I wanted him to be restrained. Just as Conner was.

I gripped my sheathed sword tightly with my two hands, clutching it as though it were a stick. I felt slight contrition well up within me as I prepared to strike him the first time. It was only slight and short lived. He yelled out, even more so than I had when he had so ruthlessly hit me as a small child. It was one of the only human things I had ever seen him do.

It wasn't long before he began to beg for me to stop. Being beaten was something new to Adam. He was used to being the one to make others suffer. I would not be as cruel as him. I refrained from hitting him further, though I had taken a liking to it after my conscience left. He looked at me with something I had never seen in his eyes before: confusion. He thought that I was going to spare him. His countenance changed, however, when he saw me unsheathe my sword. I would not beat him ruthlessly. Likewise, I would not let him live. And so he died. I be-headed him just as he had done Conner and the same look of fear and dread was forever carved into his frozen facial expression. Those eyes that used to reverberate nothing but hate showed nothing but a child-like fear. That was how they would remain until the crows saw fit to feast. Io left him there. The same courtesy he had shown his brother.

The next was my father. He, too, would die according to how he had treated me. He laid in bed, fast asleep without a care in the world. He would never understand what he took from me. My innocence, my reason to feel like anything in such a world, those close to me… He was lucky that I was willing to at least wake him up.

"Father…" I said in as curt a fashion as I had called to Adam.

He stirred slightly, but gave no response.

"Father!" He was not going to get a third chance.

"Karel?" Annoyance was clear in his voice. "What is it? I am trying to sleep!"

I stared at him in silence, that slight contrition surfacing again.

"Boy, answer me when I ask you something!"

He didn't know that he was better of not demanding. In utter darkness I stabbed him clean through the stomach. I removed my sword when I felt him start convulsing from his severed spine. That was all that I needed to do. I left him to die on that bed, just as he had left me to be murdered by Adam so many years ago.

I showed mercy to Neil and Collin and let them fall by means of duel. There was no revenge that I could take from them that was not taken by their upbringing. They were nothing but pawns; the products of wrong teachings just as I was. Collin died with a look of horror. I was beginning to wonder if people could have any other expression as they withered away. Until it was Neil's turn.

Neil surprised me. When he fell to the ground, grasping the wound that I had given him through his chest, he cried and grinned all at the same time. It was this change that made me feel less hate for him. So much less hate, that I knelt down next to him in his final moments. So much less hate, that I felt I couldn't leave him to die alone as I had the others.

"Thank you…" He muttered weakly.

"For what? I'm the one who killed you."

"Thank… you…" He repeated one last time as his life left him. I nodded. He was not exactly the same as the other three. He was not evil. He was just weak and didn't know how to be strong enough to control his own destiny. I closed his eyes and carried him to where Conner's grave was. I buried Neil next to him. That was what Neil had wanted all along. My eye twitched, showing my slight sympathy as I walked away, leaving my two brothers for the last time.

There was only one more task to be done. Karla could not come back to find such a sight. It had to be disposed of. I lit a lantern from the pantry, then threw it against the wall, watching the wood burst into flames as fire caught hold of it. I took the Wo Dao off of the wall, the precious heirloom, and attached it to my belt, tossing the sword stained by my kin's blood into the soon-to-be conflagration. It was my prize, after all. In the end, I was the only one who had done what I was taught to do. I had defeated them all. In the end, as ironic as it was, I was the only one who had done exactly what he was raised to do.

I fell to the ground outside of the enflamed structure, puking continuously until there was nothing left that could come out. I felt sick knowing that in the end, it was not I who one. All of them. They had turned me into the same, unfeeling person they had become. I thrust my head upwards, staring blankly into the dark, midnight sky, promising that I would never kill those who were not willing to witness bloodshed.

"Conner, I'm sorry…but it had to be done." I looked forward, stood up, began walking, and never looked back. "And Karla, I hope you never have to know."

**So, how many people made it to the end of this morbid chapter? I would like to know : ) Yeah, I kinda felt weird writing this seeing as I'm not a psycho killer. I think that's a good part of why he puked at the end. (Lovely images, I'm sure.) Seeing how far I took this chapter, I believe the next one will be the last. As always, please review!**


	6. Reunion

**I want to thank those of you who have reviewed consistently throughout the story (Sorenfangirl04, Neville2.0, Gamefreek 321, and The Twilight Rorouni) This is the last chapter of this relatively short fanfic. I thank you all for reading to the end, so here is the conclusion! He's at the age where you get him in the game.**

Among many soldiers was the last place I thought that I would meet her again. I had left her no trace for her to find me with. For all she knew I could be dead with the others. But our paths did cross again. She approached me that day. That day that we had finished our shopping in the castle town. I was unsure what to say. I had no idea what she had been through, what she knew, if she had become like the rest… Her eyes were not the same as they once were. They were filled with hate, hardened with the cold stain that could belong only to one who had taken a life. What caught my eye the most was what she carried at her side. A sword. "_Swords are used to kill people anyway. Why would we need anything like that?" _That was what I remembered about Karla. I didn't know how much she had changed but that was it. I knew she had.

She recognized me almost the instant her gaze laid upon me. I was surprised. I had changed much since the last time she had saw me. I didn't imagine that I could be identified as the same person. Her joy at us being reunited was beyond what I would have imagined but still I couldn't get passed the look in her eyes and the sword at her side. Perhaps she had become the same, maybe more cunning, than the others. What if it was a trick? It crossed my mind. She would be close to me as we once were and kill me while my guard was down. If she sought after what my brothers had, that was a prospect that I could not overlook.

I didn't know how to express affection, concern, or happiness. None of those emotions came to me any longer. Their memory had faded away into dust, into a lifeless section of my mind that would never be renewed. I needed to hide behind those cynical thoughts. It was the only way I knew how to function and the way that I had survived. Her countenance sunk as I revealed all to her. I had killed them. All of them. Yes, I had slaughtered our father and siblings so that their blood ran into the depths of where we once called home and so that they could walk this earth nevermore. I remembered clearly everything about our childhood. That was why I couldn't trust her. We were always the same, her and I. We were innocent together. Now that I had changed, so she must have. Karla and I were not meant to live as normal people. My response to her joy could only be one thing. I had to take her life.

I proposed a duel that she did not want to partake in. Finally, she agreed. The time had come. My little sister stood before me, her head bowed in a defeated manner as I with my sword prepared to end her life. There was no other way. The strong must die. "Karla, are you ready?"

"Yes. Do as you wish, brother. When I fall to you, I will leave no regrets."

I had nothing to say. She was going to do nothing? Not even draw her blade? I was taken off guard.

"We are less than human now. We are no different from our swords themselves. Our hearts are cold, and we count the days we live solely by the flesh we cleave. What meaning can there be in such an existence?"

We became the swords that we carried at our sides. Yes, that was a fitting statement. I was modeled to become what my father saw as an object of perfection, something to kill without hesitation, one who thirsts for blood. My skills were sharpened to kill just as the sword was sharpened to cut.

"Cut me down, brother. I simply wanted to hear your voice before I died. Now I have. I am satisfied."

She looked at me, those eyes saddened. She reminded me of Conner. It made sense to me then. I had never understood why Conner let them kill him without a struggle. He didn't believe he deserved to live. He hated what he was forced to become. He, just as Karla stood before me now, believed that death was better than living to bring death to others. Death was better than being what I had become. I put my sword back within its sheathe.

She looked at me wordless. It seemed that my gesture being the opposite of what I said confused her.

"Karla… You haven't changed. But I have. I must have. When I am with you, I remember the past.

"Brother…"

"Go where you will. I will not fight you." I would not become the same as them. I would not kill needlessly for the sake of killing. I refused to live a pointless being.

"Brother….brother, what will you do?

"Well…" My quest was clear. Eliminate the strong so that the weak would never have to become what I had. The weak could be innocent. Without the strong, the weak would no longer be weak. They would be human. Her and I both knew the truth of it. I would not raise my blade against those who did not wish to fight. Regardless, my need to quench my thirst for violence still existed. It had developed and it would never go away.

"I won't stop you….I doubt you can resist the destiny of our blood for long….So I will wait for you. On that scarlet plain. I will wait for my brother to come home…"

She said nothing else. She left, leaving me to stand alone yet again, so many thoughts of the past tangling themselves in my mind.

Home.

We had no home.

Perhaps for the first time in either of our lives we could start one.

**That ends it. Yep, all the dialog this chapter was from Karel and Karla's A support conversation, except where either of them said "…" I put a thought of Karel's. Hope you enjoyed it! **

**On another note, I'm creating a story challenge for anyone who is interested. If you enjoyed this story, it may be something that you would like to partake in or read stories by those who did. Look under my profile for more details. Thanks again for reading!**


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